


Oh Brother Of Mine

by YourLoyalBlogger



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Banter, Family, Friendship, Humour, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLoyalBlogger/pseuds/YourLoyalBlogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many chapters are quite short, as I tend to write chapters like scenes from the show...if that makes sense. This was made for the Sherlock BBC Fic kink meme. Still Ongoing, like all my fics *sigh*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

_It started with a note. Not a long note, nothing elaborate or over the top, just a simple note. Left on a that phone, the one we got from our friendly neighbourhood bomber. One simple message had turned our lives upside down._

_It had changed everything and everyone that was involved. But no one more than Sherlock. But this is no way to begin a story. So I'll take you back, back to when it all started, back to when we first received this message from one James Moriarty._

* * *

John strolled into the kitchen, brushing his teeth, dressing gown on and hair soaking wet. "John.. you're dripping all over the floor". John shrugged, searching through the cupboard for something. "John, it's dangerous, someone might slip and fall". The doctor looked over at the man perched above the kitchen table.

"And exploding the toaster isn't?"

"It was an experiment"

"Thats your excuse for everything. TV blows up, experiment, toes in my jam, experiment, shooting the wall, experiment. Wait, that wasn't an experiment, you were just bored!"

Sherlock smiled from his position over the microscope. "The wall had it coming"

"Of course it did" John rolled his eyes and went back to brushing his teeth, but did leave the room, the last thing he needed was Sherlock slipping on a wet floor and needing John to stitch him up. And Sherlock was a terrible patient, such a child. John went back to his own room, changing into trousers, shirt and white woollen jumper.

**BEEP!**

John raised his eyebrows, that wasn't his phone, his was in the living room. It wasn't Sherlocks either, Sherlock had his. The left only one phone. One very pink phone. Moriarty. John walked over to his desk, retrieving the pink clad phone and searching for a new message. Oh no... this was very not good.

"Sherlock!"


	2. 2

John ran out of his room and into the kitchen. Sherlock was still busy with the microscope, looking at god knows what. He hadn't heard him. "Sherlock!". The detective looked up. "What is it John?" The doctor was clearly agitated. This got Sherlock's attention immediately. "Whats happened?". The doctor thrust the phone at him. "Its him! He's back Sherlock!". Sherlock looked down at the phone in his face, the pink phone. Oh. He took the phone from his friend.

"He sent us a message?"

"He sent you a message, It's addressed to Sexy, thats what he first called you isn't it, in The Great Game?" John's title for a particular incident Sherlock would like to forget. "What's it say?"

"Read it!". Sherlock unlocked the phone and eagerly searched for the new message. Finally something to end the boredom, he just hoped this new puzzle would not harm anyone, he didn't need more deaths on his conscience like last time. There, new message : Hello Sexy. He clicked and opened it.

_Hey there sexy, are you as bored as I am? How about a little game, a treasure hunt! But lets make things more interesting, more...explosive. Find all the clues in time and defuse the bomb or you lose! Here's your first clue. Find it and it will lead you the next! Have fun sexy, I'll enjoy watching you dance xxx Jim_

Sherlock grinned. " What is it, what did he say?". Sherlock held up a hand to silence his friend, he needed to see their first clue. There was an image attached. The corner of a room. Interesting.

"John, call Lestrade, let him know who's back and a bomb, theres a bomb somewhere in London"

"Not again!"

"Fraid so"

* * *

John ran off to call the DI. Sherlock sat on his chair, staring at the image. "Yes, yes I know, he's back. Yes Sherlock says theres a bomb, I know another one. No he doesn't know where, I'll ask and call you back later. Ok.. bye!" John ended the call. "Lestrade wants information as soon as you know Sherlock, he's on his way over."

"Oh.. he's not joining us is he?"

"Joining us on what?"

Sherlock gave another grin.

"Want to go on a treasure hunt John?"


	3. 3

Sherlock was perched on his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together under his chin, he was very deep in thought. He knew this room, but from where? It was perfectly ordinary. Green wallpaper, new, hint of old wallpaper underneath, new tenant in a flat who was lazy. Wood floors, hint of large burn under a large rug. So, the rug was brought to cover the burn, so its larger than it looks. Interesting. John sipped his tea, watching out the window, watching and waiting. "Got anything yet?". Sherlock waved a hand over. "I know this place, I'm sure of it, tell me what to you see?" John picked up the phone glancing at the image.

"Well... I don't know, nothing to go on"

"Theres plenty to go on"

"Maybe for you"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and took back the phone. "Its a flat Im sure. New tenant is a young man, probably early twenties, lazy or very busy, see the wallpaper? He's simply covered the old. Theres a burn on the floor, but its larger than it looks or he wouldn't have brought a rug to cover it up. Theres a burn..."

"Yes you said that bit"

"Yes yes but John! Its not from a house fire, its localised...Oh! Oh I'm so thick!"

"Sometimes..."

"What?"

"Nothing. You figure something out?"

Sherlock grinned. "Oh yes, I know where to find the next clue! Get Lestrade" The detective stood, grabbing his coat and scarf and quickly put them on, placing the phone in his pocket. "And tell him what?" John had taken his gun from his room, hiding it under his jacket.

"Tell him to meet us on the corner of Montague street"

"The next clue is on Montague street?"

"Correction, the next clue is in my old flat"


	4. 4

It didn't take them too long to reach Montague street. John was intrigued to find out where Sherlock had once lived, his friend rarely mentioned anything about his past. They stopped in front of a row of flats much like their own one back on Baker street. Lestrade, Donavan and Anderson were all waiting outside.

"Oh great.. Anderson and Sally are here"

"Sherlock be nice"

"Make me"

John shook his head smiling, he didn't particularly like them all that much either. He might like them if they were as nice to Sherlock as they were to himself but that wasn't likely to happened any time soon. Lestrade nodded as the duo walked up to them. "The owners out, but his landlord gave us the key. So you going to tell us what we're here for?" Sherlock waited for the DI to open the flat before speaking. "A clue. Each clue will lead us to another and a bomb." John nodded and added "But we don't know how many clues or how long we have to find it". Sherlock had already begun to search the house for that one corner. "Most likely only today" replied Sherlock from another room.

"Aha!"

"You found something?"

The entire group ran towards the sound of Sherlocks deep voice. "Yes, the next clue!" John found Sherlock in a study, kneeling on the floor. There was the green wallpaper and burned wood from the photo and nestled on the floor was a jar.

"So what is it, whats the next clue?" Inquired Anderson. Sherlock sighed. "Leave the room Anderson, it can't handle your stupidity." Anderson sputtered and started muttering curses. 'Leave Anderson". "But Sir-!" Lestrade put his hand on the forensic scientists shoulder. "Just go wait outside"

"These bath salts are our next clue" Sherlock stood, the jar in his hand. "I'm going to Barts, I need to analyse these, John see what information you can find out about Turkish baths" The detective started to leave.

"Wait! What about the rest of us?"

"You're the DI, its not my job to tell you what to do"

"Coulda fooled me" muttered Lestrade, before motioning to Sally for them to leave. John followed Sherlock out. "Wait how to you know they're turkish?" Sherlock handed him the jar. "Note the design of the jar, its clearly turkish john, so these are authentic, so probably from somewhere expensive, that and the bottom of the jar says Made In Turkey" John rolled his eyes again. "Of course" Sherlock took back the jar.

"There's at least sixteen still running Turkish Baths in London, I need to analyse these salts first, see what information they can tell me. I need you to research and find me a list of the Baths, we may find the next clue at one of them" Sherlock hailed a cab and left, leaving a dumbfounded John.

"Great, Turkish Baths, I have no idea where to even start. Thanks a lot Sherlock"

**PING!**

John raised his eyebrows glancing at his phone.

_'You're welcome -SH'_

John shook his head and laughed.


	5. 5

Analysing the salts was tedious work and it yielded very little information. Sherlock sat back and waited for the results. This game, hopefully, was going to be more interesting than his previous cases this , dull, did no one have any cases that were actually stimulating anymore? He blamed Jim, and Anderson, well he blamed everything on Anderson.

**BEEP!**

That wasn't his phone, it was Jim's...he's sent another message! Sherlock quickly whipped out the phone. Another message addressed to Sexy, Sherlock really wished he'd stop calling him that. He unlocked the phone and opened the message.

_Hey Sexy! Great job on finding the location of the first clue! There'll be 5 in total ;) and don't forget, each one will get harder! You only have till 9pm tonight! xxx Jim_

So I was right! This makes things more challenging, mused Sherlock. Excellent. He checked his watch, it was 8:37 am, still plenty of time. The machine beeped at him, giving him the readouts on the bath salts. Good, great even. This should narrow things down considerably. He took out his own phone and texted his flat mate. He then settled back and waited once more.

_John, meet me at Barts with the information -SH_

* * *

John looked at his meager list and hoped the one they were looking for was one of the ones he'd researched. He took a cab and headed straight for Barts. Sherlock was still looking at the results when John came in. "Find anything?" the doctor inquired, handing the list to Sherlock, who had now opened a small laptop onto the lab table.

"Hey.. is that mine?"

"I need it"

"Then use your own"

"Yours was closer"

John threw up his hands in defeat and looked over his friends shoulder as he quickly typed away on the keyboard. "So you didn't answer me, did you find anything?" Sherlock nodded. "I just need to look something up and then I'll answer you." He continued typing, finally coming to the site he was looking for.

"Here!"

John read the site name. "Hammam Spa Experience, London. Is this where the bath salts are from?" Again Sherlock nodded, grinning. "These salts are rare and expensive in England, they're imported directly from Turkey. According to my research only three hammams, thats Turkish Baths John, only three in London use this particular type. But only one, uses this jar to contain them." Sherlock stood grabbing his coat.

"Wait, where are you going?"

" _We_  are going Kensington, fancy some relaxation John?"


	6. 6

The ride up was silent, Sherlock tapping away at his phone. "What are you doing?" John tried to lean over to get a better look but Sherlock simply hid his phone. "Making arrangements"

"Arrangements for what?" Sherlock sighed and put his phone back in his coat. "Well I doubt they'll just let us just walk in there and get the salts, so I was making an appointment, I called in a few favours." John smiled.

"Couldn't you get Lestrade to get us a search warrant?"

"Who knows how long that will take, besides the less we see of them the quicker we can find this bomb, anyway, isn't this more fun?" Sherlock grinned at John and poked him to get out of the cab.

"Maybe for you..."

Sherlock chuckled. "It is for you too, you enjoy the thrill of adventure just as much as I do" John smiled back and the two of them shared a laugh before landing at the reception desk.

* * *

John had to admit, this wasn't half bad, the place was certainly relaxing, they'd spent a good hour here already and John felt great. First the spa, then a massage, now a relaxation room. He wondered if Sherlock was enjoying this too or searching for clues. There was a knock at the door. Before John could answer, it opened to reveal Sherlock in nothing more than a white dressing gown like the one John was wearing. He took the bed next to John.

"You know I could have been naked in here"

"I considered that possibility"

"But you came in anyway"

"What I found was more concerning then your possible nudity"

John laughed nervously and tried to cover everything up with the gown. Sherlock seemed unconcerned. "Well, what did you find then?" Sherlock held up an identical jar to the one they'd found at the flat. "So, its the same, what about the next clue?" Sherlock grinned and opened one of the jars and pulled out an envelope. "It took me fifteen tries to find the right jar, I nearly got thrown out, but I pretended I was tipsy from the wine they'd left in my relaxation room"

"Of course"

Sherlock opened the envelope, it was a photograph of the inside of a church. There was writing on the back as well. "What's it say?" Sherlock turned it over and read out the message.

_'Nothing except a battle lost can be half as melancholy as a battle won.'_

"Thats it?"

'Thats it"

John turned away from Sherlock, deep in thought, while Sherlock watched, a curious look on his face. "So.. we have to find someone buried at that church then!" Sherlock's look switched to one of surprise. "How do you deduce that?" John laughed. "It's quite simple really, it's like in the Da Vinci Code"

"Oh not that"

"You read it?"

"It was rubbish"

"I thought it was quite good actually, I-"

"Get to the point"

"Well in the book they have to find someone interred at a church, we just need to find out the origin of the quote and we should be able to find the next clue!" Sherlock smiled and clapped his hands. "Excellent John!" John looked very pleased. Sherlock felt slightly annoyed he hadn't figured that one out himself, but it had been a terrible book so he didn't dwell to much on it.

"Is this place set for Wi-Fi?" John shook his head. "Then we need to go back to Baker Street at once" Sherlock stood, John grabbed the photo, something so oddly familiar about this church...of course! Was this how Sherlock felt, when he'd deduced something important? It felt, quite nice, empowering even.

"John?"

"Sherlock I know this place!"

"You do? Where is it?"

"St Paul's Cathedral"

* * *

Sherlock headed back to his room and changed, while John, changing in his own room, was whistling, pleased and in a very good mood. The two of them left, feeling very relaxed. "People will talk". Sherlock glanced up at him from his phone. "About what?" "Us, Turkish Baths.." Oh. "People do little else, I wouldn't worry about it"

"Easy for you to say.."

"What was that?"

"Nothing"


	7. 7

The traffic slowed them down considerably, as did lunch. By the time they made it to St Paul's Cathedral it was almost 1pm. Something was still on Sherlock's mind though, something important.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That the photo showed St Paul's"

"Oh, we'll I've been here before, and besides, the photo shows part of a staircase"

Sherlock looked, it did but it didn't seem overly significant. "So?" John grinned. "You really lack knowledge on a lot of popular things don't you Sherlock?". Sherlock sighed, "John...". The two of them entered the building. "Alright, alright, it's from Harry Potter"

"Harry Potter... I think I've heard of it"

"I'd have been very surprised if you hadn't"

"What about it?"

"This staircase was in the movies. Im guessing "Jim" knows about your lack of knowledge on pop culture, but he didn't think about mine!"

Sherlock smiled, John was excited and happy, which always put Sherlock in a good mood. "So now we need to find out who is buried here. Using this quote" John nodded, "Don't you have internet on your phone?" Sherlock nodded "But my battery is running out, don't you?"

The doctor sighed, yeah make me do all the work. He opened his phone, accessing the net quickly and punching in the quote. Which took time, the buttons on this thing were so small and sensitive. Only one name came up, brilliant!

"Well?"

"The Duke of Wellington!"

* * *

The two of them looked at each other and began to run around the interior of the cathedral to find some reference to the Duke. John happened upon someone who gave tours of the cathedral. "Sherlock! He's in the crypt!" A few minutes later and a lot of explaining the duo was on their way down to the tomb of the Duke of Wellington.

It's bloody cold down here, thought John as they made their descent. "Do you think the next clue will be here Sherlock?" Sherlock shrugged. "Lets hope so, it's half-past two, we only have till 9pm" Shit, we better hurry then mate. John spotted the tomb first, the two of them pelting down the corridor, footsteps echoing.

It was a big stone sarcophagus on top of four lions heads. John could see a box nestled between the two. Sherlock had seen it as well and was already in the process of taking it out. The detective had expected an object of some kind like the first clue but it was a simple slip of paper. Another riddle perhaps?

"What is it Sherlock?"

"Just a piece of paper" He turned it over. "It reads, 'I watch all from above', well that could be anything" John paced, while Sherlock sat on the stone floor, thinking. "I watch from above...". John's phone took that moment to ring. The doctor answered it but really wished he hadn't. Even Sherlock could hear the yelling emitting from the little phone.

"Lestrade isn't very happy with us, is he John?"

"Not happy with  _you_ , you mean, he wants to know why we haven't told him anything and where the hell are we?"

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand. "Tell him, for all the good it will do, Im going back to Baker Street to think on this"


	8. 8

John sat in his armchair, constantly glancing at the time, 4 pm, so only five hours to go and two clues left. Sherlock had mentioned when they got home that the last clue should lead them to the bomb. The man in question was still pacing the room. Several books were strewn across the floor, none of them leading anywhere. "Think, think think" Sherlock muttered to himself, his mind racing at light speed but still nowhere closer to the truth. A thought suddenly occurred to John. "Hey Sherlock...we have a bomb, a hunt and Moriarty, in London" Sherlock barely acknowledged him.

"Whats your point?"

"Where's your brother?" Sherlock shrugged, he didn't really know or really care right now.

"Probably starting a war or something, I don't know. Not my problem"

Come on brain, come on.

* * *

A knock at the door, Sherlock knew who it was before it was even opened, Lestrade, with Sally and Anderson. "Anderson get out" He wasted no time. Anderson stood fast so Sherlock turned his back and continued his pacing. "Any luck?" asked Lestrade, John shook his head. "What, the freak can't figure out a simple riddle?" Sherlock glared, Lestrade motioned for her to shush. The DI moved to sit opposite of John, telling him what they had learnt so far, it wasn't much and most of it wasn't helpful. "The tenant says the package was delivered by some blonde bloke, thats all he knows, he was told not to open it. The man told him to leave the house for awhile"

"Why didn't he go to the police?" Lestrade shrugged, "Got scared I guess, he said it just felt safer to do as he was told." Sherlock clenched his hands. "Shut up, both of you I'm trying to think" Sally scoffed. "What is this stupid riddle anyway, I bet its something really obvious and you're just over thinking it."

"Fine you solve it then" Sherlock threw the box at her, she ducked, so it hit Anderson instead, the detective grinned. "Ow! That hurt you know" The forensic scientist bent down and picked up the box. Donavon retrieved the riddle from him. "I watch from above? Thats the riddle?" Rubbish sort of riddle really. "Yes, now shut up"

"I watch from above..what like the London Eye?"

Everyone in the room stopped what they where doing. Sherlock slowly turned, completely shocked. "Say that again..." Anderson felt slightly nervous, everyone was looking at him. "Well you know I, eye, you can see most of London from the Eye. Eye watch from above... makes sense doesn't it?" Sherlock laughed and clapped his hands. "Of course, it's so simple! So it needed a simple mind to solve it." Anderson brisitled. "Oi!"

"This may be the smartest thing you've ever done Anderson!"

Sherlock was already dressed in his coat and out the door before Anderson could think up a retort. "Hurry up John!" John rushed down the stairs after him. "You slow down! You've got those long legs while I've got...you know normal ones"

"We're so close John, I can feel it! I'm on fire!"

"Well come on now, you've only solved half of them. Let's not get carried away"

"Semantics"

"Yes it always is with you isn't it"


	9. 9

More traffic, and a line. A long line. "Tourist season" complained Sherlock. John wasn't too fussed. "Come on, we're british, we know how to queue." Famous last words however since they were in that line for what truly felt like forever. Lestrade by now had caught up with them, brandishing his badge at the front and demanding that they close things down so each capsule could be searched.

"You know if you had turned up earlier, things would have been much easier and less time would have been wasted" Sherlock gave another glare to Lestrade, who shrugged. "Traffic" He explained. "Bloody Mycroft". John shook his head at the bickering that followed.

"Thats enough girls, we need to find this next clue."

* * *

It took about forty-five minutes, with Scotland Yard helping. They entered the capsule carefully, to find...nothing. At least thats what John thought. Sherlock was studying the window for some odd reason. "Sherlock?" The detective moved, to reveal writing on the glass.

"Solve her murder..."

There was an address written after it. Lestrade was already phoning people, Sherlock was...damn it, Sherlock had already left the capsule. John ran after the tall man, not wanting to be left behind. Together they took a cab, expecting the others to take their own cars, but John knew Sherlock wasn't even caring what they did. They only got in the way in his mind. The building was small, abandoned and the body fresh. Sherlock circled her like a vulture, his eyes taking in every tiny detail, every speck of dirt or blood. He knelt, pulling out his magnifying glass, searching the body, then searching her bags. Fifteen minutes later he stood back up, satisfied.

"Well?" Lestrade looked at him, arms folded. "She didn't die here, that much is obvious" Sherlock took a breath as he moved to stand next to John. "How do you know that? Look at the blood spatter!" Anderson rudely interrupted, Sherlock was about to comment until John elbowed him in the ribs.

Wasn't it obvious? Sherlock sighed and moved around the body again. "Her shoes, look at them, they're clean" He knelt and pointed at the soles of her blue shoes. "So what?" "So, it's been raining, theres mud everywhere, especially outside here, but theres no mud on her shoes, so she was not killed here." John raised his eyebrows, it was always so simple. "But the blood spatter.." Sherlock waved a hand over the wall. "Made to look as if she died here, would fool most people, but this isn't human blood, its animal blood."

He squatted next to the body. "She's in her early thirties, just got back from the hairdresser, look at her hair. She's just been to a second hand bookstore after the hairdressers...the books, they're old but in a plastic bag, with a receipt, so she's only just brought them. The receipt..." He pulled it out, but it didn't give an address.

Think, Sherlock, think. The others remained silent. A map sped through Sherlocks head. Hairdressers, near a second hand bookstore... come on, come on. There! He stood back up. "I know where she was killed, come on!" He ran back out of the room.


	10. 10

Time was running out, they had maybe an hour and a half left, but if Sherlock was right, this was where they'd find the bomb. John spun around. Hairdressers, check, second hand bookstore, check. Sherlock was already running in the direction of a large old builidng. He leaned over, pointing something out.

"Blood, look, its fresh. She was injured here.. then dragged inside!"

The door wasn't even locked, making it easy to go inside. Too easy. Lestrade handed John a torch, the inside of the building almost pitch black. "You sure she was killed here Sherlock?" asked Lestrade, as he sweeped the torch back and forth. "I found her earring by the door, she was missing one". John leaned over to stare at the small piece of jewellery.

"I didn't notice"

"Im not surprised"

Sherlock had begun running into various rooms. Lestrade and the others chased after the tall detective, once the DI had of course informed the other Yarders to sweep the area. "You should wait outside Sherlock, if theres a bomb, its not safe!" But his calls fell on deaf ears, they always did.

* * *

Time continued to count down. John entered the only room that wasn't empty, but still no bomb. There was a TV though. A very large TV screen. John crept closer. The room was empty, the wallpaper torn off, but there was an expensive screen on the wall. Something didn't feel right.

_Hello John_

Plain white words flashed across the screen, making John jump back in surprise and almost trip over his own feet. Shit... Jim was watching them, he had to be. "Sherlock!" He cried out as loud as possible. The doctor didn't even turn around, just kept his eyes on the screen. Lestrade, Sherlock and the others burst into the room, Lestrade with his gun out, Sherlock held... his riding crop for some reason.

Sherlock took a breath and looked at John. "I thought you were in trouble". John was touched but concerned with more pressing matters. He pointed to the screen. But the words were gone. Sherlock walked over, studying every inch of it.

_Hello Sexy_

This time it was Sherlock's turn to jump in surprise. He smiled. "Jim".

_Congrats on finding where she was murdered!_

"Im guessing you can hear us and see us, somehow, but thats not important, wheres the bomb?"

_Oh Sherlock, It's not here, it was never here._

"No, no no! All clues pointed to here! We've solved your puzzle, we found all the clues!"

_Who said I'd ever play fair, my dear?_

Shit, shit shit shit. Lestrade called off the search and waited for more information. John moved next to his friend, who was rapidly becoming more agitated by the second. The words disappeared, replaced by a picture.

"Pall Mall?"

John was confused. Why there? Lestrade began barking new orders down his phone. Sherlock's eyes widened, his face going white. Oh no, this was no accident. Music began to play interrupting all their thoughts.

_It's time to kill the lights and shut the DJ down_

_This place about to!_

_Tonight we're taking over, no one's getting out_

_This place about to blow! Blow!_

_This place about to blow! Blow!_

_This place about to blow! Blow!_

_This place about to blow! Blow!_

John stole a look at Sherlock and was shocked by what he saw. His friend was even paler than before, his hands were shaking. And then he ran. Sherlock had pelted out of the room, faster than he'd ever seen him. The others stood there, confused for a second then rushed after him.

"Sherlock, Sherlock what is it? Why is the bomb in Pall Mall and not here?"

Sherlock turned, still running. "Thats not Pall Mall!" John and Lestrade stole a look at each other. But the image clearly showed Pall Mall. Why would he say that? John decided to humour him.

"Then what is it!"

"The Diogenes Club!"


	11. 11

Still confused, John climbed into the cab with Sherlock, his hands unable keep still. "DRIVE!" There was a beep, the pink phone flashed a message across its screen.

_'Its 8:45, do you know where Big Brother is?'_

Sherlock yelled at the cabbie again, to drive as fast as possible. The phone started replaying the music from the abandoned building. Nothing either could do would turn it off.

_Now what? We're taking control_

_We get what we want, we do what you don't_

_Dirt and glitter cover the floor_

_We're pretty and sick, we're young and we're bored_

_It's time to lose your mind and let the crazy out_

"Sherlock?"

"What?...no...sorry John, it's not your fault..."

John was growing more and more worried for his friend. "Whats wrong? Whats the Diogenes Club?" Sherlock ran his hand through his hair. "One of the strangest clubs in London. It's hard to explain...it was started by a young man back in his university days. Now days mostly elite men and occasionally, but rarely women use it. Especially business men. Inside you are forbidden to talk, many go I think because its peaceful and relaxing, I've been a few times myself"

John shook his head, something still wasn't right, something had his normally reserved friend on edge. "What aren't you telling me Sherlock?" The detective looked down, one hand clenching itself tightly. "Mycroft, Mycroft started the club, its almost 9pm, he's there.. right now John" Oh no, Mycroft... but he was smart, very smart, John was certain he'd be alright but he now understood. His friend was worried.

He knew Sherlock cared. Sherlock claimed to be a sociopath, some had even stated he may have aspergers. But these people didn't know Sherlock, he was neither, just someone who kept his emotions close to his heart, all bottled inside. He only showed them to John, sometimes Mrs Hudson and rarely but occasionally to their clients. John stared forward and prayed they weren't too late

* * *

_Go, go, go, go insane, go insane_

_Throw some glitter, make it rain on_

_And let me see them hands,_

_Let me, let me see them hands_

A man dressed in white Westwood, wine glass in one hand, remote in the other, danced. Another man, tall and blonde, watched amused from his chair, cleaning his rifle.

* * *

Lestrade had beaten them there, but only by a few minutes. Sherlock bounded out of the car, the phone falling from his coat pocket. John picked it up. It was counting down.

"Where is everyone?"

Lestrade turned to see one very angry Sherlock behind him. "We're trying to get them out, somethings wrong with the doors" Before he'd even finished there was the sound of a window being smashed, people starting to climb out to safety.

Sherlock ran towards an old man. "Mycroft, is he out yet?" The old man shook his head. "Saw something I think, went off to go check it. Haven't heard from him since. It was about ten minutes ago." Sherlock started to run towards the open window. John stared down at the phone, it was beeping.

**10**

**9**

**8...**

"Sherlock, get back! Get back down!" John rushed over, grabbing his friend around his thin waist and tried to pull him away. "Mycroft isn't out yet John!" Im sorry Sherlock, but you're more important right now. He tugged hard, finally pulling his friend away. Lestrade had walked over, helping him restrain the struggling detective.

**7**

**6**

**5...**

"Whats wrong with him?" Lestrade looked confused, glancing at John for help. "Mycroft". Even Sally looked concerned. "Who's Mycroft?" John looked Lestarde straight in the eye. "His brother". Lestrade looked down to stare at Sherlock but he was gone. Sherlock had teared himself away from both of them, running towards the building.

"Sherlock, NO!"

John chased after, his own safety thrown out the window.

**4**

**3**

**2**

**1...**

and then...

**BOOM!**

The explosion propelled the both of them back into hard ground. The last thing John remembered before passing out was the pain filled voice of his best friend, crying out for his brother.

"MYCROFT!"


End file.
